A Georgian Curse for the Kirkian Charm
by Rosa Clearwater
Summary: "Oh, don't worry, Spock. Jim is just trying to figure out if he wants to risk it or not." This remark lacked any legitimate form of an answer - but, when did these particular humans ever manage to do so?


"Capt- Jim," It was their eleventh shore leave together, and Spock still struggled to speak on a first-name basis publicly. "Is there something wrong?"

But this question, which had been intended to offer some form of alleviation, only caused the Captain to further bury himself behind his menu - and for the good Doctor to chuckle.

"Oh, don't worry, Spock. Jim is just trying to figure out if he wants to risk it or not." This remark lacked any legitimate form of an answer - but, when did these particular humans manage to do so?

"And, what exactly is there to risk, Doctor?" This brought a cackle from Leonard and a groan from Jim.

"That's right, you hadn't been there when that Garblotian had-"

"Enough, Bones. I am definitely _not_ cursed." An arched eyebrow emerged at this, slanting its question into curious eyes.

"If you aren't cursed, then he's not a hobgoblin. Now, why don't you just order what you really want?" The Captain paused at this, suspicious.

"Doctor, aren't you always wanting me to go on a diet?" The good ol' country doctor shrugged.

"You've been on good behavior lately. 'Sides, when's the last time any of us had food that wasn't synthesized?"

 _Far too long,_ was the unanimous thought that echoed around the table. Of course, that was the unofficial agreement that trekked alongside them for five years - don't expect gourmet cooking.

Which is what led them to tantalizing smells of what was probably the closest Earth equivalent to an old-fashioned diner.

"What'll it be, boys?" Their waitress approached them as though they were all old friends - much to the satisfaction of Kirk and McCoy, and much to the confusion of Spock.

"He'll be having the bacon and scrambled egg special, he'll be having the short stack with fresh fruit substituted for the bacon, and I'll be having the corned beef hash special with the eggs sunny-side up." The Southern charm was dialed up to its fullest capacity, and their server was already off after shooting off some routine questions.

"Fascinating." The murmur was expected, but Bones's chuckling at it was definitely not.

"Breakfast is my domain, Spock. Now, Jim boy, why don't you fill in our hobgoblin in that curse of yours?"

Although the Captain looked far more interested in protesting the fact that he was cursed, he got up from the table instead.

"Why don't you fill him, instead? I've got to make a quick trip to the men's room." Leonard harrumphed at this, seeing the excuse for what it was.

But let it be known that James T. Kirk, one of the most audacious Captains in Starfleet history, was quite content to scurry off to the restroom if it avoided him any form of embarrassment with the _Enterprise_ 's First Officer.

So, the good doctor allowed himself another hearty laugh at this before leaning in towards Spock, eyes twinkling with mischievous amusement. The half-Vulcan unconsciously leaned forward - unwillingly interested in CMO's tale.

"Turns out there's one woman in this quadrant who can resist the Kirkian charm."

Spock blinked.

But, Bones was already turning his head towards the center of the diner.

"Ma'am," He called their server over, the mischief giving way to his own charm once again. "Make sure to make the bacon nice and crisp. Our friend would never admit it, but he really loves it when his bacon's burnt."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind." She said before taking off to the kitchens, leaving them to their devices.

"Doctor, I do not believe-"

"Spock," There was a heavier tone blanketing those words. Tired blue eyes met weary brown and for a second the Science Officer was reminded of the exhausting months they'd just been running through. "Indulge me in some harmless fun."

The unspoken _"Please."_ trailed into the air.

So, Spock sat back and allowed himself to become impartial to the scene. Leonard smiled weakly at this, knowing that this was the half-Vulcan's equivalent of granting permission. The twinkle regained its energy, the Vulcan stare of not-quite-contentment returned.

And the Captain rejoined them, happily oblivious to it all.

Though, judging from the smells of the kitchen, Spock estimated that Jim would no longer be in such a state in approximately 4.732 Earth minutes...

_._

 _A/N:_ Another piece from my little mischievous AO3 collection, Facetious Fusions :) This piece was inspired by a quotation from _Howl's Moving Castle:_ "Here's another curse for you: may all your bacon burn!"

Also, if this seems unusually unbeta'd, it's because a migraine was beginning to hit as I was wrapping this up.

And, finally, there's a new poll on my page :) It's about what I should focus on next - - pairings and/or fandoms wise - after I finish some projects. Feel free to fill it out if you'd like to request anything in particular.


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